These are two poems I wrote during my sophomore year Poetry Workshop in UNO's Writer's Workshop. I am most definitely NOT a poet, but I enjoy these two. The first one is written in Rimas Dissolutas style and the other was written for my little brother.

Colors
Her hand clutches the crayon as it arcs
Across the page leaving the color
 Eggplant trailing in its path. Her small
Fingers, thinner than the crayon itself

Are red with the pressure. Tree bark
Is shaded cedar chest and beaver.
The limbs reach up and up, tall
Into mountain meadow leaves and an elf

 Dances in aquamarine Clarks
On a neon carrot stage his face scarlet with fever
Or maybe just with tire from all
The dancing. Her brow furrows as she checks herself

 Admires her work. She draws a hat
With a bell in desert sand
Atop the head of the dancing pixie
“He needs a partner,” I tell her.

 She grabs the dandelion and draws a cat
Standing, one paw holding the elf’s hand.
Then vivid tangerine, purple pizzazz, lapis lazuli,
And screamin’ green round over

Them to form a rainbow. The purple arc is fat.
The crayon is shorter than all the rest when they stand
Together. It is her favorite—even more than razzmic berry.
Who knew the world had so many colors.


 Poem Beginning with a Line by Robert Hass
 For Tanner

There are limits to imagination.
But you, Little Brother, you know this is
not true, with our refrigerator box
spaceships, caves, and houses, our animals
lined up in front of pillows for our dog sled team
races, and hot air balloons made with a flag and
our own puffing breath. I want you to
always believe you can be Dwayne Wade.
I want you to jump off tables in capes and fly.

Remember when you would cry, (like a fire
engine) and your stuffed dog would
tell you everything would get better? I will always
be the voice of your puppy speaking to you through
the vent or over the phone, now that I am no longer home.
You can come to me with things as little as “Mom said ‘shit’!”
Or as big as the morning dad told you he
 was leaving us minutes before you went to fifth grade.
 We’ll make no-bake cookies and celebrate or soothe 
our hearts with the chocolate and peanut butter.

Brother Bear, I will dive to ocean floors to
show you all things are possible. I will
lasso any bull in your path to greatness.
 If you desire an orange world, I will
ask what shade you need from my Crayola box.
Whatever you need, I’ll be it for you.

There are limits to imagination for Robert Hass,
but there are no limits to you, my friend.
 When you leave and I appear smaller,
and smaller, in your mirror, remember
you can be anything you want, yes, even a Bengal Tiger.
Because you ready, Buddy. Like you’ve chanted
a thousand times: you ready for it all.